Storybrooke's Music of the Night
by Solitaire Emerald
Summary: When Emma meet's Storybrooke's "ghost writer", Henry introduces the Phantom's Once Upon a Time. And it seems as though he remembers! But can they save him from his own madness, or is he doomed for a fate worse than his last?
1. The Phantom of Storybrooke

Hello, everyone. This was an idea I had for a while and thought it was time to post it. Hopefully, this will also have a sequel if my idea doesn't get Jossed (then again I still might post it if nobody minds an AU). Also, this mostly applies to the musical, but some details from the book will be added as well. Also rated T for some language, violence, and all that good stuff.

**_Phantom _belongs to Gaston Leroux (or Andrew Lloyd Webber or whatever) and _Once Upon a Time _belongs to ABC.**

Love only skin deep. These words were not comforting to him. Love is blind. Was it? He did not want to think of any of these so-called words of advice about love. Many a time he has heard them. Many a time he was refused this. No, he would follow his own words, his own cold heart about this strange emotion. And he was determined to succeed.

OoOoOoOo

Emma Swan knocked on the door to a dark, old house. She was ordered by "Madame Mayor" to investigate the home, for reasons left ambiguous. Though Emma was suspicious of how it seemed dark and almost depressing compared to the bright atmosphere of Storybrooke, it wasn't exactly a valid reason to barge in people's homes for no reason. Still, she was forced to do as ordered. Her knock was met with silence.

"This is the sheriff," she said. When there was still no answer, she wiggled the doorknob. Much to her surprise it was left unlocked.

The old wood creaked against her feet. Despite the lack of lighting, she could see that the home was furnished with a couch, table, and a crystal chandelier.

"Hello?" she said.

"Yes?" an invisible voice asked behind her. Emma quickly spun around.

"Where are you?"

"I'm here." The voice was behind her again. "I'm here." The voice was above her. "I'm here." A man suddenly stood before her.

"What the hell's going on here? Is this some kind of joke?" For a moment there was no reply. Until…

"Please shut the door; I do hate it when there's this much light in the house."

"Not until you-"

"Please." Emma sighed; she knew she wasn't getting any answers until she did what she was asked. Before she went to close the door, she quickly observed the stranger. He wore a dark suit and white cravat around his neck, looking as though he could be a business partner with Mr. Gold. She couldn't make out his face since it was covered with a thick black veil attached to a black hat, the veil falling right above his mouth.

"Hi, Emma," a little voice said as she closed the door.

"Henry!" she said, "what are you doing here?"

"Just a visit," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"He certainly does keep me good company," the stranger replied, "I've known him for quite a while. Ah, I apologize for not introducing myself. I am Erik Specter." Emma shook his cold hand. "Henry has told me much about you, Emma; I have a feeling you and I will get along quite well."

"Uh huh…" she said nodding. "So do you live here?"

"Well, I suppose you could say that; I merely stay here when I don't end up falling asleep at my work."

"What's that?"

"Are you familiar with the Storybrooke Theatre?" Emma nodded her head. "I am- or rather hope- to be a composer there. I have been working tirelessly on a particular piece that I plan to debut there. If only those two idiots running my theatre can get some sense." He said this last sentence under his breath before looking at his wrist. "Hmm… your mother's going to be home soon, Henry; you'd better run along, now. That reminds me; tonight is opening night for their musical. Why don't you two stop by tonight? I assure you it will be interesting."

"Uh… sure." Emma didn't have a huge interest in theatre, but this did sound like an invitation that would be rude to decline.

OoOoOoOo

"Look at this," Henry said opening his book up at a table in Granny's Café that afternoon. Emma looked at the picture; it was a man with a half-masked face in a boat crossing a lake filled with mist with a young woman as a passenger. "_The Phantom of the Opera._ This is who Erik is. Why else would he be wearing that hat?"

"Maybe he has a bad sunburn?" Emma said. Henry frowned at her. "Hey, it was just a joke."

"Anyway, I think I should show him this after the show tonight."

"What makes you think he'll actually take you seriously?"

"Trust me; I think he knows something other people here don't."

OoOoOoOo"_Think of me," _a soprano opera singer sang draped in a marvelous costume. _"Think of me fondly,_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me,_

_Ev'ry so often,_

_Promise me you'll try._

_On that day,_

_That not so distant day,_

_When you are far away and free._

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me._

_And though it's clear,_

_Though it was always clear,_

_That this was never-"_

Suddenly, a heavy backdrop crashed down and nearly collapsed on the singer. Though she was not hurt, she was most certainly infuriated. After the stage managers sat her down, they noticed something fall from above; it was a letter. Before they could reach it, a woman in black and her hair tied in a tight bun picked it up and read it herself.

"It is from the Opera Ghost," she said, "He welcomes you to his theatre-"

"_His _theatre?" one stage manager said.

"And to remind you of his allowance of $20,000."

"Twenty thousand dollars?" the other stage manager exclaimed.

"_And _that you will keep his private box, box 5."

"Ridiculous!"

"I would advise you to comply, Sir Andre and Firman; he becomes very impatient to those who do not follow his instructions."

"Speak for yourself," the soprano said haughtily.

"La Charlotta, please," Firman said, "these things do happen!" Charlotta paused for a moment, then looked up at the managers.

"These things do 'appen?" she said. "For five year's I've been 'ere, and these things do 'appen. And was there anything don to stop these things from 'appening? No! 'These things do 'appen.' Well, _this _is not happening! I'm leaving!"

"Charlotta, wait!" but it was too late; she was already out the door and into a carriage by the time they tried to catch up to her. To add insult to injury, lead male Piangi remarked "amateurs" when he followed her. "Now what are we going to do? We can't just cancel opening night!"

"Christine could sing it!" a blonde ballerina said, "she's had lessons." A young woman with brown hair with curls slowly walked out of the crowd.

"Is that so?" Andre said, "Pray tell who this teacher is?"

"I don't know his name," she replied.

"Terrific."

"Give her a chance," Mme. Giry said.

"Oh all right." Timidly, Christine took center stage with everyone keenly watching. Her palms began to sweat, but she took deep breaths as she thought of herself impressing her teacher. Soon, she began to sing.

"_Think of me fondly,_

_When we've said goodbye._

_Remember me,_

_Ev'ry so often,_

_Promise me you'll try._

_On that day,_

_That not so distant day,_

_When you are far away and free._

_If you ever find a moment,_

_Spare a thought for me."_

OoOoOoOo

At the Storybrooke Theatre, all eyes were on Christine Dane, the rising star of performances. Just about everyone in the small town came to see her, expecting to see the usual Charlotte Croak, but were pleasantly surprised to see a newcomer for once. A very talented one at that. "Wow," Mary Margaret said, "isn't she great?"

"Yeah…" Emma replied. So this is why Erik wanted to bring them here…

Meanwhile, in a box high above the stage, someone else was watching intently.

_"Christine?" _he said, _"Could it be Christine? Bravo! Long ago, it seemed so long ago, how young and innocent we were. She may not remember me, but, I remember her…"_

"_Flowers fade,_

_The fruits of summer fade,_

_They have their seasons so do we._

_But please promise me that someday,_

_You will thing of me…"_

The audience let out a thunderous applause. Some even threw flowers on the stage during the curtain call. Sydney Glass, of course, was the first one there to take pictures when he was allowed to have his camera on.

"Wasn't she good?" Henry asked Regina.

"Indeed," she said paying half attention. She of course, knew who Christine really was. And she was determined to make sure things ended in tragedy once again for her instructor.

Yeah, I have no idea what the currency is in the Kingdom, so let's just play along and say dollars. Sorry for any inconsistencies, but read and review please. And virtual cookies to anyone who can guess at what I'm referring to as a "bad sunburn".


	2. Old Friends

**Glad to see people are enjoying this! I hope you like this chapter. And, since I want to add some originality, I'm adding a little friendship between two of the characters. Who is it? Well, I'm not telling you that! Also, I got a suggestion for making this a Erik/Emma pairing. Usually, I try to stay away from non-canon pairings (as I was planning to do here), but it does sound kind of interesting. I think once I was crazy enough to think of an Erik/Red Riding Hood pairing (although maybe it's not that crazy, seeing as they they both have a sort of secret). Maybe I'll rewrite this sometime as a separate story(ies)? What do you think? Anyway, enjoy this.**

**I don't own anything, and probably never will.**

Erik looked down at the small, framed picture in his hand. As always, the lights were dimmed, but his eyes had grown used to the darkness, what with spending most of his time underground and wearing this veil over his eyes. In fact, a simple light from flashlight shining in his eyes made him want to retreat back to his dark lair.

The picture he was holding was of... her. Though he had lost track of how old it was, it still looked as though it was taken an hour ago. She wore a soft smile across her flawless face, her eyes filled with warmth. This was before the Curse, after his inevitable rejection. No, this wasn't hapening again. Not this time.

"Can I come in?" a voice outside his door said.

"What do you want?" Erik replied.

"Well, well, is that any way to treat an old friend?" Mr. Gold stepped through the door, even though he was only half invited inside.

"I don't believe we ever established a friendship."

"Erik, dearie, let's think about this for a moment." Dearie. How he hated it when he called him that. Who did he think he was, anyway? "We both lost something... or rather, someone very precious, so very dear, to us. But your the lucky one; at least you have another chance for your heart. So tell you want, how about we make a deal. What do you say?"

"Not interested. If I want to be rid of the fop, I'll do it myself." Mr. Gold nodded his head in understandment.

"I should have guessed," he said, "you always were the type to relish in your kill. By the way, there are people celebrating your little star pupil; perhaps you are even friends with them. But what am I saying? Of course your not interested in that either. Well, I'll see you later." Erik waited until Mr. Gold shut the door behind him to let out an exhausted sigh. _Friends _he thought. It reminded him of a particular time...

OoOoOoOo

Red Riding Hood was sitting in the Grand Palace Opera House with her grandmother. It was early in the afternoon and they had come here to watch a rehersal. Her grandmother had brought her there after years of seeing shows there and wanted to show her grandaughter just what creates the grand performances. Perhaps the red-hooded girl would enjoy watching the rehersals if it wasn't being interrupted by the haughty Charlotta, the leading soprano.

"No, no, no!" she screamed at the director, "You do not tell me what to do! It ez my role and I do what I want!"

"You know what?" the director said shaking, "How about we all take five?"

_Thank God _Red thought straightening her dress as she stood up.

"Don't go too far," her grandmother warned, "you know that-"

"Yes, I do." She certainly did not need to be reminded of what was happening tonight. Even though her blood red hood kept her safe her grandmother still worried. But truth be told, the two were communicating better.

As she entered the lobby, she heard a soft, strange sound. It sounded a bit like an organ. But there was no such instrument in sight. So how was this possible? She thought the only way to find out was to follow the sound.

Red had walked around a bit until the music grew louder. Left she went, which was where the music was coming from. Strange; it was down a long, dark corridor. What would a huge, expensive instrument be doing there? As she approached the end of the hall, she noticed that it looked as though there was a door, where a cold draft was released. The music was getting louder. The air was getting colder. She was nearly there...

Something very cold grasped her waist. She wanted to scream for help, but her mouth was covered.

"What are you doing in my theatre?" the man asked, "You certainly aren't one of the performers. And you aren't any other staff member. Perhaps you are in alliance with the queen then? Well, you picked the wrong person to challenge."

"No, wait!" Red silently pleaded when the man released his hand over her mouth, "Please just let me explain!" There was silence, which was her cue to speak, despite still being locked in her place by the stranger. "When I was a little girl, my grandmother and I would go here to watch plays and operas. Now, she wanted me to see the rehersals. Then I heard this music and... well, I was just lured in. And as for the queen... I don't want to be caught speaking ill of her, but I don't wish to associate myself with her. Please, just let me go; my grandmother will be worried sick." At first there was silence again. She was worried that she might be there forever when finally the man spoke.

"A family," he muttered, "someone to love and return the love. But I suppose that's simple when you don't have a mark of shame." Red wondered if she should reveal her ailment to him. Not visually, of course, but tell him. But would he even believe her? Still, the words escaped her mouth before she could stop herself.

"You're wrong," she said, "You're wrong about not having a mark of shame; This may sound strange, but if I don't wear this cloak, then... then..."

"You turn to a wolf when the full moon rises," he finished.

"H-how did you know?"

"I've traveled the world, seen many types of magic, curses, defensive clothing such as yours. When you said that you are in danger when you don't wear this blood-red cloak, I immediatly recognized what sort of defensive it gives a person; I had read it in a library during one of my travels. Perhaps you aren't so perfect as I thought."

"Who is? Oh, um, could you also please let me go?" Rather embarassed by the situation, the stranger released her, after he made her promise she would not tell anyone of their meeting. "But wait! Can I at least know your name." The stranger turned to her. With the little light there was, she could see half of a white mask covering half of his face.

"Erik," he said, "and that is all."

OoOoOoOo

"Here's to Christine!" Mel said raising a glass in celebration. Her, Christine, Ruby, Mary Margaret, Ashley, and Emma had all gone to Granny's Cafe for a quick celebration of Christine's success. Emma had learned a bit about Christine; they had not met until now and were getting along quite well.

"So, Christine," Mel said, "tell me how you got so good."

"Well, you're all probably going to think I'm crazy," Christine replied.

"Come on!" Mary Margaret insisted, "We're all so impresed!"

"Okay. Well, my father told me the story of an Angel of Music. And sometimes I would imagine him singing me to sleep at night. Now I have one visiting me and teaching me to sing."

"Christine," Mel said, "I think I once heard you sing when no one else was. But there was another voice that wasn't you."

Ruby pondering this idea. She remembered that Erik Specter, who always ordered tea, telling her about teaching a young woman to sing like an angel. But could that be...? No, couldn't be. She may have been one of the few who noticed him, but there was no way he could do something like that. Could he?

"Ooh, look," Ashley said looking at the door. In came a very handsome young man with brown hair and kind eyes. This was none other than Randal Call, Storybrooke's most elligible bachelor. To Christine's surprise he walked right over to her.

"Why Little Lottie," he said, "don't tell me you don't remember..."

OoOoOoOo

"Don't tell me you don't remember the day I saved your scarf," The visconte (Spelling?) said.

"Oh, Roul!" Christine cried leaping up to hug him. "You remember!"

"Of course I do! You have no idea of how long I've waited for this day. Now then, how about we go someplace special?"

"What?"

OoOoOoOo

"Radal, I'd love to, I really would, but I promised I'd meet my teacher after the performance."

"Oh?"

"Yes, but please let us do it another time." Before Randal could answer, Christine darted out the door. She didn't even finish the rest of her drink.

"What was that all about?" Emma asked. Mary Margaret merely shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

OoOoOoOo

"Christine?" a custodian asked in the theatre, "What are you doing here now?"

"Oh! Well, I, uh, forgot something. Yeah, I left my, er, make up bag in the dressing room."

"Would you like me to get it?"

"No! I mean, no thank you." Without another word she ran down the hall to the dressing room.

The dressing room was fairly simple, with costumes hanging on the wall and a few pictures perhaps. The most impressive ornament was a large, clean mirror spread across the wall. There she stood, silent. Waiting.

OoOoOoOo

"Things have changed, Roul," Christine said gazing into the mirror in her dressing room. Soon, she felt a strange presence, as if someone was with her. It was cold and almost frightening, yet somehow she felt safe now.

_"Insolent boy!_

_This slave of fashion!_

_Basking in your glory!_

_Ignorant fool!_

_This brave young suitor,_

_Sharing in my triumph!"_

_"Angel, I hear you,_

_Speak, I listen!_

_Stay by my side,_

_Guide me._

_Angel, my soul was weak,_

_Forgive me._

_Enter at last, Master."_

_"Flattering child, ysou shall know me,_

_See why in shadows I hide._

_Look at your face in the mirror,_

_I am there inside!"_

_"Angel of Music,_

_Guide and guardian,_

_Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music hide no longer,_

_Come to me strange angel."_

_"I am your Angel of Music... Come to me, Angel of Music..."_

OoOoOoOo

_"I am your Angel of Music... Come to me, Angel of Music..."_

"Who is there?" Randal asked shaking the doorknob, "Who is that voice?" Christine gasped. Had he actually followed her all the way here? But why?  
>"Randal!" she cried.<p>

"Don't bother yourself with him, my angel," Erik said silently taking her hand, "Come with me." Christine looked back at the door, then the open mirror, then the door again. She had to keep her promise.

"All right," she said. With that, Erik guided her through the corridor.

"Christine! Angel!" Randal shouted kicking open the door. But it was too late now; all that was left was a strange mist even though there was no water in sight.


	3. Do I Dream Again

**Well, the first season of _Once Upon a Time _has wrapped up, and now that summer's approaching, I'll hopefully be able to update my stories more often.**

**I still don't own anything. You should already know that.**

_In sleep he sang to me,_

_ In dreams he came._

_ That voice which calls to me,_

_ And speaks my name._

_ And do I dream again?_

_ For now I find_

_ The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_ Inside my mind._

Christine sang these words as Erik guided her through the corridors under the theatre. Her voice was still as beautiful as it was when he had first trained her many years ago. Listening to her soft, gentle voice reminded him of how much more he needed her with him in this world, where they could be happy. Unlike the other residents of Storybrooke, he didn't need a deal to get what he wanted.

_ Sing once again with me,_

_ Our strange duet._

_ My power over you_

_ Grows stronger yet._

_ And though you turn from me _

_ To glance behind,_

_ The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_ Inside your mind._

Now they were at a lake, swirling with mist. The air was cold against Christine's delicate skin. Erik saw her shivering and draped his cloak over her shoulders when they stepped into the boat.

OoOoOoThose who have seen your face

_draw back in fear._

_I am the mask you wear._

_it's me they hear._

_My spirit and my voice in one combined _

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my mind._

_In all your fantasies,_

_You always knew_

_That man and mystery_

_Were both in you_

_And in this labryinth_

_Where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind._

Sing, my Angel of Music. Sing for me! He's there, the Phantom of the Opera…OoOoOo

Christine looked around the mysterious lair in awe. She had lived in Storybrook her entire life and never had she known about an underground lake, let alone someone's home.

"I had spent many years building my home," Erik said, "Christine, do you remember this place?"

"No," Christine said, "I had no idea such a beautiful place was down here. And to think that it was only you who built it…" Erik opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to remind her again of what they shared before the Curse. But he stopped himself before words could escape. He had another idea.

"I see," he said, "but I have remembered everything for you. All you need to do know is listen."

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation_

_Darkness stirs and wakes imagination_

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses__  
><em>_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor_

_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender_

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light_

_And listen to the music of the night  
>Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams<em>

_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before _

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_

_And you live as you've never lived before  
>Softly, deftly, music shall caress you <em>

_Hear it, feel it secretly possess you_

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_

_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight_

_The darkness of the music of the night  
>Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world <em>

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before_

_Let your soul take you where you long to be_

_Only then can you belong to me__  
><em>_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication_

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation_

_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in _

_To the power of the music that I write_

_The power of the music of the night_

Erik looked back at Christine. Was she remembering? Or was he just giving himself false hopes? No, he couldn't fool himself; he needed to know for sure. Taking her warm hand into his own cold, bony one, he led her to a mirror, which held a figure of Christine in a wedding gown. The real Christine approached the mirror, but the figure's hand flew at her and she fainted. Erik caught her gracefully and placed his cloak over her.

_You alone can make my song take flight _

_Help me make the music of the night…_

OoOoOo

"Henry, are you sure about this?" Emma said as she was approaching Erik's house with Henry by her side. In his arms was the book _Once Upon a Time_, which he was eager to show Erik.

"Of course," Henry said, "I just want you, as an Operation COBRA member, to be there just in case."

"Okay, but promise me if anything goes wrong, run out and get as many people's attention as possible." Henry nodded and waved to Emma before knocking at the door.

OoOoOo

"I can't believe I forgot these blasted things again," Erik said in frustration as he collected his sheets music on his desk. If there was any real advantage to lving in Storybrooke, it was that Erik could travel between his two homes whenever he needed a different workspace. Unfortunately, this often made him forgetful of where exactly he left his various pieces. Just as he collected the last sheet he heard a knock at the door. "Who's there?" he said severely.

"It's only me, Henry." The little boy walked in with the book in his arms.

"Ah, Henry, pardon me for my harsh tone; I was afraid you were Mr. Gold coming to bother me again."

"That's okay. Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"And what might that be?"

"Does this remind you of anything?" Henry opened the book to the picture of Christine and Erik on the boat over the lake. Erik smiled to himself, but didn't want to give anything away just yet.

"Perhaps. But pray tell me why you ask."

"Well, you're probably going to think I'm crazy, but everyone who lives here are fairytale characters. Except they don't know it. I was wondering if maybe you did. Are you… I mean, I don't know if…"

"I am the Phantom of the Opera?" Erik finished, "What would you say if I was?"

"Actually, I would ask some more questions. Like, how do you still remember when the others don't?"

"It is because I had no magical abilities; the most the Curse could do to me was take me here, but I still remember everything else."

"But how could you survive in the Kingdom if you had no magic?"

"I didn't need any; I had my illusions and tricks. It was all I needed. I could escape death with a turn of my heel. Even here my knowledge of illusions prove quite useful."

"Really? Because I wanted to know if-" Henry was interrupted by a loud creak. The two looked towards the door and saw Regina Mills standing with her arms folded across her chest, her piercing eyes overflowing with rage.

"What are you doing with my son?" she asked.

"Just teaching him a little song," Erik lied, "nothing more than a little song."

"I see. Henry, go outside; I want a little word with Mr. Specter."

"But-" Henry said.

"Now." Henry was smart enough not to be in his adoptive mother's way when she was angry, so he promtly left after saying a quick goodbye to Erik. "I don't know what you are doing Mr. Specter, but I demand it to be stopped."

"You're giving _me _demands?" Erik asked, "I'm touched, your majesty, simply touched; for so long you've ignored me and now you're throwing me orders like the rest of your little pieces in your game. Don't think I don't know; I know what you're plotting."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," Regina snapped as though she was scolding a child, "I know what he was showing you; don't encourage his fantasies."

"Oh, but Madame Mayor, these fantasies are very real. Don't tell me you don't remember me before you cast your little spell. Yes, Madame Mayor, I remember; you thought you glossed over the entire kingdom, but you were mistken. But don't worry; I know how to keep my lips sealed… for now." Erik's words and tone would usually leave a person cold, but Regina Mills was different; she was not easily intimidated by anyone and Erik was not going to be the first.

"So you say. But just how much can you trust someone who hides their face behind a mask?" With a turn of her heel, Regina exited the house. A minute later, Erik heard her car drive away. He looked down at his manuscript; it had suffered significant damage since the transportation to Storybrooke, but it was nothing that some rewriting can't fix. And if he could keep Christine with him until the Curse was broken… well, that's when he knows when he'll won.

**Sorry if this chapter wasn't that good, but I didn't have too many ideas at the time. Read and review as always.**


	4. Erik's Story

**Hello, all. I've got about seven and 1/3 pages for you to read, so I hope you enjoy this little treat.**

Christine's sapphire blue eyes fluttered open when she heard to soft melody of a monkey music box, tapping the cymbals in its hands together. The tune… why did it sound so familiar? Had she heard it on the radio? No, it couldn't be. Where was she anyway? She slipped the black cloak off herself and got up to look around. Her silver high heels clicked against the floor, which caught Erik's attention as he was writing his music. He looked over and saw her standing no more than a few feet away from him. She was still modestly dressed as she was those years ago, wearing a pure white sleeveless dress that reached the floor and brown curled hair that reached to her lower back. So pure and beautiful… just as he remembered her.

_I remember there was mist..._

_Swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake_

_There were candles all around, _

_and on the lake there was a boat _

_And in the boat there was a man__  
><em>_Who was that shape in the shadows?_

_Whose is the face in the mask?_

And without warning, she pulled off Erik's hat by the brim.

"No!" he cried as he covered his face with his hands. He could feel his blood boiling now; he wanted to scream and break something, throw it across the room and watch it shatter.

_No, _he told himself. _I must remain calm. I can't lose my temper in front of her again…_

OoOoOo

_...Damn you!_

_You little prying Pandora_

_You little demon, this is whanted to see… _

_Curse you, you little lying Delilah!_

_You little viper!__Now you cannot ever be free!_

_Damn you, curse you..._

Then he collapsed to the ground, and crawled towards her like a snake.

_Stranger than you dreamt it _

_Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me _

_This loathesome gargoyle_

_Who burns in hell,_

_But secretly yearns for heaven_

_Secretly, secretly...__But, Christine...__  
><em>_Fear can turn to love__You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster__This repulsive carcass_

_Who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty,_

_Secretly, secretly...__Oh, Christine..._

OoOoOo

"C-Christine," Erik said shaking as he stood up, "I-I know that… that you are curious… yes, w-we are all at some point… but some… some thing are better left…" He turned his head around and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; he couldn't even look at his own reflection and turned away. "…they are better left unseen… I… I don't blame you for that… but you don't want to see this face… especially since you don't remember it… the… the first time. Please, Christine, my dear…" He tried taking a step towards her, but he collapsed and fell on his knees. Christine knelt down next to him and held on to his hand so he wouldn't try to attempt getting back up. With her slender fingers, she combed his hair back before replacing his hat, making sure not to look at his face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I won't let that happen again. I promise." Erik looked up at her. Had she willing shown his affection? Have the pieces fallen in their place?

"It's all right now," he said as he stood up with her, "But we must return; those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you."

OoOoOo

"So, you're saying she just disappeared?" Emma asked at the police station to Randal as she copied down his words.

"Yes, Sheriff Swan, the door suddenly locked on me, and when I finally kicked it open, she was gone!" Randal said frantically. "And then there was mist. How could have there possibly been mist?"

"Well, all right; I'll investigate as soon as possible. In the meantime-" The door gave a loud creak.

"Hello?" Christine said entering the room. Randal practically jumped out of his chair and ran to her.

"Christine! I was so worried about you!" he said. "Where in the world have you been?"

"I told you, I was just going to meet my instructor."

"But… but the door locked on me."

"Sorry, it must have locked automatically."

"And when I was finally able to get in, there was mist everywhere."

"Oh, um, well, I guess there was a lot of water. You know what, how about we just get to the theatre? There's supposed to be more information on the next show."

"Wait, Christine," Emma said, "I'd like to speak with you alone for a minute."

"I'll wait for you," Randal said as he shut the door. Christine took a seat in front of Emma's desk.

"Are you familiar with the name Erik Specter?"

"Er… yes," Christine said, "he's my music teacher."

"Has he ever… tried to hurt you in any way? Either physically or emotionally or se-" Christine knew what she was about to say next and immediately interrupted her.

"What? Of course not! He may be quiet and a little strange, but he is no monster!"

"Hey, I just need to know that everything's okay; Randal was very worried about what happened last night."

"I see… yes, everything is quite fine, Sheriff Swan, thank you." At that moment, the door swung open again. Emma looked over and saw Henry running towards her with the book still in hand.

"Emma!" he said.

"Oh, Henry," she said, "Sorry about what happened earlier today; your mother told me to leave, saying that she didn't need me to take you home."

"It's okay. But- oh, hi, Christine."

"Hello, Henry," Christine said, "What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, uh, just wanted to, um…" He reached into his pocket as he started to think when he found a handful of quarters. He placed them on the desk. "I just saw that Emma dropped these and wanted to give them back."

"Oh? Well, in the meantime, I better be off to the theatre." Christine got out of her seat and left. Right after she closed the door, Henry quickly sat himself down.

"Erik is the Phantom. He told me!" Emma sighed.

"Henry, you can't just believe everything that comes out of his mouth. I mean, I'm sure he's a nice guy, but you got to question his trustworthiness if he won't even show his face." Henry sulked in his seat.

"That's exactly what my mom said when she was driving me home." Emma immediately wished she had taken these words back; she wanted to be the mother figure he never had, not a copy of the mayor. She put his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm sorry. You know what? Why don't you let me get to know him better; we can make a day out of it by going all through town. That sound good?"

"Well… okay. But I can't be sure he'll agree."

"Come on, he seems to like you; how can he say no?"

OoOoOo

"No," Erik said as he neatly put his sheet music in a manila folder.

"But why?" Henry asked.

"I'd rather not scare the residents of Storybrooke more than they already are of me… at least, not at the moment. Therefore, I don't want to walk about town when it is unnecessary. Consider it a favor to everyone. Besides, I think you already know I'm not much of a people person as it is."

"But, Erik-"

"I'm sorry, Henry; I'd usually do anything for you, but this is not one of those things."

"In that case," Emma said, "do it for me."

"And why would I do that?" Emma reached for the sheriff badge attached to her hip and put it at his face.

"By order of the sheriff." Erik said nothing for a moment. Then there was a sigh.

"Fine. Perhaps I do have other things to do."

OoOoOo

Things were rather… awkward with Erik walking with the two. Every time they passed someone, they couldn't help but stare at the man with his face covered with a black veil. Erik tried to ignore this, but had to use all his strength to not give them an intimidating stare in return; despite his eyes being draped with a black cloth, his stare could scare them back into their usual business.

"Is this where you needed to go?" Emma asked pointing to Mr. Gold shop.

"Yes," Erik replied, "let's go."

A little bell rang as Erik opened the door. Mr. Gold was at the counter, organizing his newest wares under the glow of a light. Erik reached into his coat and slapped down a handful of bills onto the counter in front of him. Mr. Gold looked up at him confused.

"My house payments," Erik said.

"Haven't you heard of checks?" Mr. Gold asked as he counted the money.

"I thought you'd appreciate having your money right away."

"How thoughtful indeed. Well, anything else here you'd like? I have a lovely antique wooden music stand and I do know how much you like music items."

"Thank you, but-" Erik's eyes caught something that was right on a table, in the open for all customers to see. It was a pure white mask that would cover the right half of someone's face. He picked it up and traced his hand around the smooth edges, brushing his hand across the eye. Then, with the mask in hand, he reached under his veil and attached it to his face. It was a perfect fit. "It can't be," he said silently to himself.

"Like it?" Mr. Gold asked.

"Where did you get this?"

"Where? Oh, you know how these sort of things arise; it just sort of jumped at me."

"Hey, Erik, what do you have there?" Henry asked.

"It's nothing," he replied as he placed the mask back down.

"You know, I just thought of something," Mr. Gold said, "why don't you let the nice boy and lady see your face? After all, you can just show us the left half that is undeformed; I'm sure we're all curious to know what you look like."

"Erik," Emma said, "if you don't want to, you don't have to."

"No, that's alright," Erik said, "I suppose it couldn't do any harm to just show half of my face." Erik reached beneath the brim of his hat and unpinned a small pin that kept the veil in place. Slowly he folded it back to reveal his face.

A yellow eye almost seemed to glow in the somewhat dark room. His cheek was hollow and his face was deathly pale and almost corpse-like, just as the rest of his body was. Perhaps some of his skin was even dry and beginning to flake off.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," Emma said. If what was in Henry's book was true- which she wasn't exactly saying it was- then if his face looked like this just on his "normal" side, then what could it possibly look like on the deformed side? Although it wasn't as though the face was particularly ugly, it was just… unusual. The drawings may have looked normal, but up close was quite different. She tried flipping ahead in the book, but on the pages that were supposed to show the disfigurement, his entire head was just a white blur. She almost wanted to ask what the other side looked like, but it seemed as though it was enough stress on him just to reveal this much.

"Well, then," Erik said as he reattached the veil, "you wanted to stop at Granny's Café, did you not, Henry?"

OoOoOo

"Erik Specter," Ruby said strolling over to the group, "how long has it been since you last stopped for tea?"

"Too long, I'm afraid," Erik said.

"Too long is right; I thought that you died or something living all alone in that dark house."

"There're actually pretty good friends," Henry said to Emma, "not too sure why, though."

"Well it's a good thing today's a slow day," Ruby said, "I'll be able to stop and chat while I get your orders."

Everyone ordered their usuals, Emma and Henry a cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon sprinkled on top and Erik a cup of tea.

"By the way," Henry said, "you've still got a lot to tell me, Erik."

"Indeed," Erik replied. "Perhaps I should tell you about my experiences living in a freak show…"

OoOoOo

It was the annual carnival in the Kingdom. There were jugglers that could juggle thirty objects at a time, men who could eat fire, and beautiful dancers that almost seemed to fly through the air.

A young, eight-year-old Snow White looked at all these things in wonder with her sparkling little eyes. Her ebony black hair was tied back in a braid and she wore a yellow spring dress with flowers in her hair. Her father allowed her to roam by herself as long as she would meet him by sunset. She took in all the bright sights and sounds.

But then she saw something that wasn't so bright; it was a dark tent and a banner across it that said "Freak Show". Snow was scared at first, but decided to be brave and enter.

There were all sorts of strange people. There were twins that were attached together like a single person, a man with colorful tattoos all over his body that you could not even see his actual skin, a woman with a long beard brown like a man, and even a "dragon man", a man with sharp teeth and long, pointed fingernails.

But there was someone else that she saw. It was a young man, the sign outside his cage said he was about sixteen, locked in a cage like an animal. His hair was a tangled mess and in dire need of a trim. There were scars all over his body that she could see through his ripped clothing and insects flew around him. There was not much more she could see because he turned his face away from her, as though he was hiding something.

"Want to see something, girly?" a man said to her. He unlocked the cage and the young man recoiled. The man got out a long whip and began hitting the caged man with it. The young man looked as though he was using all his strength not to scream.

"Stop it!" Snow cried, "Stop it, please!" The man stopped reluctantly.

"All right, but trust me, you're missing out on some genuine entertainment! If you want to buy something to throw at him, just give a shout." After the man walked away, Snow approached the cage and kneeled down in front of him.

"Hello," she said. There was no reply. "My name is Snow White. What's yours?"

"…Erik."

"Erik? That's a nice name. How much longer are you going to stay here?"

"I really don't like it, as you saw; I don't want to stay here any longer."

"Oh. Well, maybe my father can help you out. You can live with us and you can be happy."

"I'm sure that sounds… nice."

"That's good. Well, goodbye for now; I promised my father that I'd be back before sunset." Erik watched her walk away, out into the world. Other than that ballet woman, she was the first person to show pity to him, even kindness. She was… kind. And indeed quite pretty. But he couldn't show any more proof of his existence, not if he wanted to escape.

"I'm sorry, Snow," he said, "but I'm afraid that we won't be able to get to know more about each other."

Once week later, news spread that a young man in a freak show escaped. Or, as the freak show workers insisted, died. Snow, however, didn't believe that stories of his death. No, it couldn't be true. He was probably in some faraway place, somewhere far away from the tortures of his cage. The only question was if she would ever see him again.

**Read and review as always, dearies. Also, created this lovely new image manager feature, and while I'd love to use it, I really can't draw that well and I don't have a decent program to edit existing photos, so if any of you are willing to draw something from any of my stories, I'd be very grateful and I'll be sure to give you proper credit. That's all.**


	5. I Gave You My Music

Well, here's another chapter for you. It seems like my inspirations are going into overdrive, so expect a lot of new stuff from me (if my computer's nice enough, that is).

**I don't own anything.**

"Wow, so my teacher met you?" Henry asked. "Why hasn't she said anything about it before?"

"Well, it was quite some time ago; I doubt Miss Blanchard would remember any of it," Erik replied.

"But I can't believe you were in a freak show," Ruby said, "that's disgusting; it's like you weren't even a person, just a… thing."

"Yeah," Emma agreed, "I'm glad that stuff like this isn't around anymore. Say, I wonder what's going on at the theatre. I thought Christine was saying something about a new show before she left."

"Yes," Erik said picking up his teacup, "I wonder…" Of course, this was a lie; Erik knew perfectly well that if all went accordingly, those two managers would be reading his letter by now, doing his bidding. They had also better be sending his payment soon or else he'd be in debt with Mr. Gold, which was the last thing he wanted.

OoOoOo

"No, no, no!" one of the managers said as he threw a note on the ground, "I won't stand for this!"

"Neither will I!" Another one said.

"Mr. Andrew and Frayer," Mrs. Gearing said as he daughter, Mel, still dress in her ballet outfit after just finishing her lessons, stood by her side, "I'll say it again: You had best obey his orders; the Opera Ghost won't stand for disobedience."

"Well neither will I!" Charlotte Croaks said with a huff. "Zhis Opera Ghost nonsense eez-a gitting out of 'and! Replacing me with zhat Christine? Ha! Well in zhat case I'd rather not perform at-a all!"

"Charlotte will be the star!" the two managers said simultaneously. Charlotte, however, was not impressed; her back was still turned to them.

"Your public needs you," Andrew said.

"We need you too," added Frayer.

"Would you not rather have your precious little enguege?" Charlotte said.

"Signora, no," the two managers said together, "the world wants you."

Prima Donna

_First lady of the stage!_

_Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!_

"They aren't listening, are they?" Randal asked.

No, it appears not," Mrs. Gearing said with a sigh, "I fear for the worst."

"But really, Mrs. Gearing, how much damage can one man do?"

"More than you can possibly imagine, Mr. Call. I remember some time ago when the former manager did not obey his commands. That night at the performance, several large set pieces fell on a group of people onstage, many of whom were injured."

"Do you think something like that will happen on opening night?"

"I don't want to believe it, but I have a good feeling it will."

OoOoOo

"Well then," Firman said, "I believe we deserve to sit in box five tonight. After all, those are the only seats available."

"Agreed!" Andre said taking his seat.

OoOoOo

"Everyone," Andrew said in the Storybrooke Theatre for all to hear, "Please turn off your cell phones and any other electronic devices." As Erik was about to climb up to the catwalk of the stage, he saw a faint blue glow from one of the seats. A teenager had ignored the warning and was texting away on her cell phone. Well, we couldn't do with that could we? Immediately, the cell phone shut off, and the girl was left confused. Erik smiled to himself before continuing on his way. "Flash photography and the recording of this show is strictly prohibited. Thank you, and enjoy the show."

"What's this show about, anyway?" Emma asked Mary Margaret.

"You don't know?" she replied, "It takes place in the eighteenth century, see, and this countess has her pageboy, her lover, disguised as a maid, but her husband figures out what's going on. It's really funny and I think you'll enjoy it."

OoOoOo

"Serafimo, away with this pretence!" Carlotta said as he ripped off Christine's maid skirt skirt, revealing a pair of pants.

"_You cannot-a speak, _

_But kiss me in my husband's absence!"_

The two hopped on the bed and pretending to kiss as the audience roared with laughter.

_Poor fool he makes me laugh,_

_Ha ha ha ha ha! _

"Now then," Firman said, "would we have this sort of audience if we listened to that Opera Ghost?"

"Indeed not!" Andre replied.

OoOoOo

_Poor fool he doesn't know,_

_ Ho ho ho ho ho!_

"DID I NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO LEAVE BOX 5 OPEN?"

Erik's voice boomed through the theatre, leaving everyone silent except for the stirring of people in their seats.

"Erik?" Ruby asked herself.

"Is it really…?" said Emma.

"The phantom that everyone talks about?" Mary Margaret said.

"But he can't be real," Randal said.

"Erik, is that you?" Henry said.

"He's here," Mel said onstage, "the Phantom of the Opera."

"I know he's here," Christine said. She was then hit in the head with a fan.

"Your part is silent, little toad!" Charlotte scolded to Christine.

"A toad, madam?" Erik said, "Perhaps it is _you_ who are the toad…"

"Now then, let's start again, shall we?" The orchestra began to play as the conductor raised his baton.

_"Serafimo, away with this pretence! _

_ You cannot-a speak,_

_ But kiss me in my husband's ab-croak!"_

Erik's laughter rang throughout the theatre.

_What in the world in going on? _Emma asked herself. Nervously, the company began to continue.

_ Poor fool he makes me laugh,_

_ Ha ha ha ha-croak!_

Now his laughter was even louder, as though making sure there wasn't a person that didn't hear his voice. Then the chandelier's lights above began pulsating on and off.

"Behold!" he shouted, "She is singing tonight to bring down the chandelier! Ha ha ha!"

"Oh my God," Randal said to himself.

"Yes," Mrs. Gearing said, "this is the phantom's fury."

"And Christine will be playing the duchess," Frayer said.

"Randal!" she cried to him.

"Don't worry, I'm here," Randal said comfortingly.

"As for now," Andrew said, "please enjoy the ballet from Act III!" The orchestra shuffled through their music and began to play as the ballerinas danced gracefully. They were all dressed in green with flowers, carrying flower wreaths as they danced.

But the Phantom's actions were far from over. Above the stage, Erik had his eyes set on the drunken stagehand, Jason Brood. Silently, he stalked him, careful not to shake the catwalk too much. When Jason caught sight of him and began to ran, however, Erik picked up his pace until he was finally in his grasp. Then he began to tie a rope around his legs.

"I don't know how you're alive," Erik said, "but be grateful I'm generous enough to spare you're life. Ha ha ha!"

Jason dropped from the catwalk, he legs bound together, dangling above, though not harmed very much. Despite this, everyone screamed in horror, except for Ruby, who was wondering how Erik could do such a thing, and Randal, who ran after Christine.

"Randal!" she cried.

"Don't worry, I'm coming!" Randal said.

OoOoOo

Christine and Raoul frantically rushed up the stairs of the opera house, the cold autumn air hitting their faces.

_Why have you brought us here?_

_Don't take me back there!_

_We must return!_

_He'll kill me!_

_Be still now…_

_His eyes will find me there!_

_Christine, don't say that…_

_Those eyes that burn!_

_And if he has to kill_

_A thousand men-_

_Forget this waking nightmare…_

_The Phantom of the Opera will kill…_

_This phantom is a fable…_

_Believe me…_

…_And kill again!_

_There is no Phantom of the Opera…_

_My God, who is this man…?_

_Who hunts to kill…?_

_This mask of death…?_

_I can't escape from him…_

_Whose is this voice you hear…?_

…_I never will!_

…_with every breath…?_

_And in this labyrinth,_

_Where night is blind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is here:_

_Inside your/my mind._

OoOoOo

"There is no Phantom of the Opera!" Randal insisted. Christine turned to him, her eyes filled with fear and tears.

"I've seen him, Randal," Christine said clutching the green cloak of her costume, "I've _felt _him. Oh, God, how could I ever forget? He was so cold and it felt as though a corpse had grasped me from the grave. But still… he was gentle. It was as though he would protect me from the shadows that would haunt me.

_But his voice filled my spirit_

_With a strange sweet sound…_

_In the night there was music in my mind…_

_And through music my soul began to soar!_

_And I head as I've never before…_

_What you heard was a dream_

_And nothing more…_

"Oh, Randal it wasn't a dream. Though I couldn't see his eyes I could feel all the sadness and pain of the world when he looked at me, as though he felt them all himself. It was as though he was pleading for something beautiful to love in his tortured mind to hold close to him. Oh, my poor Erik!" Her tears overflowed and she began to weep silently. Randal approached her and held her in his arms gently.

_No more talk of darkness,_

_Forget these wide-eyed fears._

_I'm here,_

_Nothing can harm you,_

_My words will warm and calm you._

_Let me be your freedom,_

_Let daylight dry your tears,_

_I'm here, with you beside you,_

_To guard you and to guide you…_

_Say you love every waking moment,_

_Turn my head with talk of summertime…_

_Say you need me with you,_

_Now and always…_

_Promise me that all you say is true…_

_That's all I ask of you…_

_Let me be your shelter,_

_Let me be your light._

_You're safe: no one will find you,_

_Your fears are far behind you._

_All I want is freedom,_

_A world with no more night…_

_And you, always beside me,_

_To hold me and to hide me._

_Then say you'll share with me one love,_

_One lifetime._

_Let me lead you from your solitude…_

_Say you need me with you here, beside you…_

_Anywhere you go let me go too…_

_Christine, that's all I ask of you…_

_Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…_

_Say the world and I will follow you…_

_Share each day with me, each night, each morning…_

_Say you love me…_

_You know I do…_

_Love me: That's all I ask of you…_

They kissed together under the moonlight. Out of joy, Randal held Christine and spun her around, both laughing, their fears and tears now gone.

_Anywhere you go let me go too…_

_Love me: That's all I ask of you…_

Suddenly, the clock chimed. It was ten o'clock at night.

_I must go-_

_They'll wonder where I am!_

_What for me, Randal!_

_Christine, I love you!_

_Order your fine horses!_

_Be with them at the door!_

_And soon you'll be beside me!_

_You'll guard me and you'll guide me…_

But with their happiness came with another's sorrow. Erik stood on the highest balcony of the theatre; he had seen everything.

"No," he said to himself. "No… it can't end this way… it won't end this way! No!" how could this have happened? Why? He had tried to change himself from before the curse. Why did it fail?

_I gave you my music,_

_Made your song take wing,_

_And now, how you've repaid me,_

_Denied me and betrayed me._

_He was bound to love you,_

_When he heard you sing…_

_Christine… Christine…_

He began to sob silently, thinking of how the only person he's ever loved escape again. Then he heard to couple singing, and placed his hands over his ears, hoping to drown out their voices.

_Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime._

_Say the word and I will follow you…_

_Share each day with me,_

_Each night each morning._

Fine. Was this the way it had to be? It appeared so. He didn't want it to lead to this, but now there was no choice left. Now he was desperate.

_You will curse the day you did not do,_

_All that the Phantom asked of you!_

Inside, it was the curtain call. Everyone gave Christine a standing ovation as she bowed in front of them.

"Go!" Erik cried. The chandelier began to wobble, then came swooping down to the stage. Randal pushed her away just in time.

"What the hell was that?" Emma said.

_Oh dear, another one shattered _Regina thought. _The sooner I get rid of him, the better._

**Read and review. Oh, and virtual cookies for those who know where "it won't end this way!" came from.**


	6. The Plan

For the sake of this fanfic, I decided to push back the Masquerade from New Year's to the early spring. Again, sorry for any inconsistencies. We good? Good.

Several months had passed since the chandelier crashed, which was soon replaced with a sparkling new one. However, the phantom who had caused the incident was nowhere to be found for quite some time. The last time he was seen was at Mary Margaret's "Congratulations on Getting Out of Jail and are Innocent" party since practically the whole town was there, but even then, he seemed a little… off. And not just off for a normal person, but as in off for Erik. Still, he kept his distance from Mr. Gold, who was also standing away from the crowd.

"Is everything all right?" Emma asked.

"Yes, Sheriff Swan, but now I should probably be off. Send my best wishes to Miss Blanchard," was all he said before walking out the door.

A few weeks passed since the party, and still there was no sign of him. Even Ruby said she hadn't seen him for a long time. Now, there was only one place for Emma left to go, somewhere where the only other person seemed to know the most about him, whether Erik wanted to admit it or not: Mr. Gold. She opened the door to his shop.

"Mr. Gold?" she said.

"Yes?" Mr. Gold replied stepping out of his office. "Ah, Sheriff Swan, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you today?"

"Have you seen Erik lately?"

"Actually, he stopped by just yesterday right when I was about to close, which is rather late at night, and bought that white mask that was on that table." He pointed to the table to their right. "That mask certainly wasn't cheap; very fine quality and you hardly see such material used for it nowadays. But, seeing as no one else wanted it and it's been sitting there for ages, I thought I'd give him a good discount."

"And that's all?"

"Afraid so. But cheer up; perhaps you'll see him at the Spring Masquerade tonight. Speaking of which, I've got to find my own mask. Do you need one by any chance?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Well, see you tonight then, I suppose."

OoOoOo

The night air in Storybrooke was warm and pleasant as everyone walked into town hall. Emma dressed in a fancy yellow cocktail dress and a white feathery mask as she observed the partygoers. Ruby was dressed in a silky red gown with a matching cloak. Mary Margaret had dressed in a sparkling white gown and had put aside her frustration long enough to share a few happy dances with David, who looked quite charming. Mr. Gold looked himself, as usual, except for wearing a simple black over his face. It seemed as though everyone was happy, wearing exquisite costumes and masks, all laughing and dancing.

"Such a shame that phantom fellow isn't here!" Andrew said with a laugh.

_Masquerade!_

_Paper faces on parade!_

_Masquerade !_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you!_

_I'm surprised that Erik isn't having the time of his life at this party _Emma thought as she took a sip of punch. Just then, Christine and Randal entered the ballroom, Christine wearing a diamond ring on her gold necklace. Her dress looked as though it was a large pink flower. Randal, despite looking very regal, was the only one not wearing a mask.

_Think of it,_

_A secret engagement,_

_Look, your future bride!_

_Just think of it…_

_But why is it secret, _

_What have we to hide?_

_Please, let's not fight…_

_Christine, you're free!_

_Wait till the time is right…_

_When will that be?_

_It's an engagement,_

_Not a crime!_

_Christine, what are you afraid of?_

_Let's not argue…_

_Please pretend you will… (I can only hope I'll…)_

_Understand in time…_

The dancing continued, laughter filling the ballroom, until the lights suddenly flickered off. Slowly, they came back up and on the grand staircase was a man dressed completely in red, looking as though blood was dripping from his costume, a skull covering his face. Written on his costume was _Don't touch me! I am the Red Death!_ Printed in gold. One rather curious fellow reached out his hand in an attempt to touch it. Before he could, the Red Death grabbed the intruder's arm in a cold, bony lock, causing the unfortunate man to retreat. After seeing the hand, Emma immediately knew who it was.

"Erik…" she whispered.

_Why so silent, good messieurs?_

_Did you think that I had left you for good?_

_Have you missed me, good messieurs?_

_I have written you an opera!_

_Here I bring the finished score:_

_Dan Juan Triumphant!_

Erik threw it to Andrew, who caught it before hitting the ground.

_So this is what you've been working on _Regina thought _how predictable._

_I advise you to comply_

_My instructions should be clear_

_Remember, there a worse things than_

_A shattered chandelier!_

"Erik," Christine said softly as she approached him, "Erik, what has happened? What's wrong, Angel?" Erik caught a glimpse at the chain around her neck, and immediately snapped it off.

_Your chains are still mine!_

_You will sing for me!_

The light went out again and everyone began to scream and panic. When the lights went back up, Erik was gone. In the confusion, Randal found Mrs. Gearing making an escape out the back door and followed her outside.

"Please, sir, I know no more than anyone else!" she said as she approached a large fountain.

"Mrs. Gearing, please!" Randal pleaded, "Please, this is for the good of the town, please you must know something!" She stopped in her tracks and turned around, her usually calm face now riddled with fear.

"All right. Well, it was many years ago, at a freak show. There was a man in a cage. So hideous, Mr. Call, that you could hardly call him a man, but he was a genius. A composer, inventor, illusionist… he traveled all over the world and created the most amazing illusion, the Maze of Mirrors. Time passed, and the man disappeared. They say he died."

"But he didn't die, did he?"hurried to her car. Now, though, Randal had all the information he needed; he just needed some help.

OoOoOo

"Have you seen the size of my part?" Carlotta screamed throwing the sheet music down to the floor.

"Who is this man to tell us how to run our own theatre?" shouted Andre.

"The things that I do for my art!"

"If you can call this gibberish art!" added Piangi pointing to the complex piece. Just then, Christine and Raoul entered the office.

"Well, well," Carlotta said, "look who decided to show up. I wouldn't be surprised if she wants to ruin us all."

"You evil woman, how dare you!" Christine said stomping her foot.

"Please, let's all calm down, now!" Raoul said.

"Messieurs," Mme. Giry said with Meg following.

"We have another note for you," Meg said. There was a collective grown from just about everyone. Mme. Giry opened the sealed note and read it out loud.

OoOoOo

"It says," Mrs. Gearing read, "Fondest greetings to you all! A few instructions just before rehearsal starts: Charlotte must be taught to act…"

…_Not her normal trick _

_Of strutting round the stage._

_Our Don Juan must lose some weight-_

_It's not healthy in a man of Peter's age._

_And my managers must learn that their place is in an office,_

_Not the arts._

_As for Miss Christine Dane…_

_No doubt she'll do her best-_

_It's true her voice is good._

_She knows, though, should she wish to excel,_

_She has much still to learn,_

_If pride will let her return to me, _

_Her teacher…_

_Her teacher…_

_Your obedient friend…_

"And angel…" Randal closed his eyes and fingers around his chin. Then, he suddenly opened them and hit his fist against his palm.

"That's it!" he said, "Look, we have all been blinded by this ghost, but now is the perfect time to finally end all this madness!"

"And how are we going to do that?" Andrew asked.

"We'll play his game. But we're going to add a few more of our pieces. Sheriff Swan will keep on guard with a few other police officials in tow. And the one to lure our clever friend… is you Christine…" All heads turned toward Christine, who stood wide-eyed.

"What?" she said.

"Yes, Christine, you're the only one who can get him to the theatre."

"Oh, Randal, I want to help you, I want all this madness to end. But if I agree, who knows what he can do? And how can I betray the man who gave me my voice? This path is so twisted this way and that, I don't know which way is right…" Randal walked up to her and put her hands is his, looking into her eyes.

_Christine, Christine,_

_Don't think that I don't care,_

_But every hope,_

_And every prayer rests on you now…_

Christine slowly pulled her hands away from Randal's and stepped back.

"You just don't understand, do you?" She said before walking out the door.

"She's mad," Charlotte muttered.

OoOoOo

Christine walked through the chilly spring air into the cemetery, gazing at the headstones and statues along her path. The dew was still wet on the grass and sparkled in the morning light. The one person she needed the most at this moment was no longer by her side. Just last week, Randal pulled her into this scheme to capture Erik, saying that the whole town depended on it. She wanted to keep everyone safe, but this was her teacher; without him, she wouldn't be the way she was right now. But all Randal saw was the world in black and white, at least in this situation. If only she could hear her father's words, feel his touch, know that he was there to tell her everything was going to be all right.

_You were once my one companion,_

_You were all that mattered._

_You were once a friend and father,_

_Then my world was shattered._

_Wishing you were somehow here again,_

_Wishing you were somehow near._

_Sometimes it seemed,_

_If I just dreamed,_

_Somehow you would be here._

_Wishing I could hear your voice again,_

_Knowing that I never will._

_Thinking of you,_

_Won't help me to do,_

_I that you dreamed I could._

_Passing bells and sculpted angels,_

_Cold and monumental,_

_Seemed for you the wrong companions,_

_You were warm and gentle._

_Too many years,_

_Fighting back tears,_

_Why can't the past just die?_

_Wishing you were somehow here again,_

_Knowing we must say "goodbye"_

_Learn to forgive,_

_Teach me to live,_

_Give me the strength the try!_

_No more memories,_

_No more silent tears,_

_No more gazing across the wasted years…_

_Help me say "goodbye…"_

_Help me say "goodbye…"_

"Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing," Christine sang silently to her father's grave, "Her father promised her that he would send her the angel of music… her father promised her…" As she sat there, gazing at her father's grave, Erik stood atop of a nearby mausoleum, a skull staff by his side. He almost wanted to laugh at this fop; did he not know what tortures he was putting her through just to capture him? The simplest solution was to just give up already; no matter what happens, the successful one would be obvious.

_Wandering child,_

_So lost, so helpless,_

_Yearning for my guidance…_

"Erik?" Christine said her heart skipping a beat. "Erik is that really you, my angel?"

"Yes, my dear, it is I."

"Oh, Erik, I don't… I _can't _put myself through this. I want all this to stop, but I can't betray you…"

"Then don't. There does not need to be any more tortures for you and this nightmare will end. We can be happy, and all will be peaceful. Yes, just come to me…" Christine turned around and saw Erik, who was no standing in front of the mausoleum, his arm extended to her. "Let us be together, just as we were meant to be." Slowly, Christine approached him.

"Christine, stop!" Randal shouted running through the graveyard. "Christine, this thing is not an angel! Christine!" Right as Christine and Erik's fingers were about to touch she turned around.

"Randal!" she cried running to him. With a shout of rage, Erik made a wall of fire encircle them. Christine could feel the heat of the flames against her cheek and grasped Randal's arm, frightened that she would be burned.

"Do you think you can make her love you by making her your prisoner?" Randal shouted as he ran up to him. Erik shot a spurt of fire towards him from his staff. Randal jumped back just in time.

"Randal!" Christine cried trying to pull him back.

"Yes, I'm here, messieur, I'm here! The Angel of Death! Don't stop, don't stop!" Erik cried with a malicious grin, madly shooting spurts of fire.

"Randal, please, let's just go!" Christine cried pulling him away.

"Don't go, don't go! Fine! So it is to be war between the both of us!" Erik shouted. "But you will not succeed again, messieur, that I can promise!" With a final cry, a furious eruption of flames spurted from the ground, and disappeared without a trace of smoke.

OoOoOo

"Randal, I can't believe you!" Emma said. Randal had met her in her office to discuss his plan to her to capture the phantom. "I can't believe you'd use your own fiancée as bait to trap some guy that's practically impossible to catch! I mean, have you seen the guy?"

"Sheriff Swan, please!" Randal said, "It's not as bad as it sounds. Look, all she needs to do is perform, the phantom comes, and you knock him to the ground and arrest him. Unless, of course, you're friends with this monster."

"He is not a monster! He's a bit strange, but he's a human, just like you and me! Didn't your mother ever teach you that?"

"Didn't _your_ mother ever teach you that if some guy makes a threat then he should be dealt with?"

"I lived in an orphanage for most of my life, so no."

"Oh… sorry…"

"That's all right, you didn't know."

"Er, anyway, look, I don't want you to kill him, I just want you to put him away for a bit, then he and the rest of town is safe."

"Sheriff Swan," a voice said. Regina had entered the room, her arms across her chest and giving an intense stare at the sheriff.

"You told her about this?" Emma said.

"Well, she _is _the mayor," Randal said.

"Sheriff Swan, must I remind you that as the sheriff of this town, it is your duty to protect people from harm before it happens?"

"No…" Emma said looking down. "Fine, I'll do it. But if anything bad happens to Christine or Erik-"

"That is this monster's name?" Regina said.

"If anything happens to _him _then I will never forgive you, not until my dying day, got that?" Randal nodded his head in agreement.

"I promise."

OoOoOo

"Hey, Erik," Emma said opening the door to Erik's house, "I just wanted a quick word with you. Erik?" The house was empty, a few loose sheets of papers blowing away from the draft.

"What are you doing here?" Erik said behind her, making her jump.

"Look, I just wanted to-"

"I know what you're planning." Erik grabbed her shoulders and brought her a mere few inches from his face. "Why are you even bothering? You understand nothing about me, nothing. You say you want to treat me as a fellow human, but I truly am nothing but a hideous monster, and will always be. But I want you to know that no matter what you do, you and your lackeys will fail." He pushed her back, causing her to stumble. "I don't ever want to see your face again." Emma said nothing as he turned his back to her, knowing that nothing was going to change his mind. Still, she thought that she'd say these last few words to him:

"No matter what anyone says, not matter what you say, I know that you are not a monster. Goodbye, Erik." And with that she stepped off the porch and went on her way. Erik stood still until the sound of her footsteps faded away before closing the door behind him.

_Seal my fate tonight,_

_I hate to have to cut the fun short,_

_But the joke's wearing thing,_

_Let the audience in,_

_Let my opera begin!_

I'm not a Raoul basher, by the way, in case you got any ideas; I just think this is how his character would react. He's very brave and heroic, but at the same time, a little childish when worst comes to worst, don't you think? Anyway, read and review.


	7. Unmasked

If all goes according to plan, this should be the second to last chapter of the fanfiction. Hope you enjoy it.

"So Christine is going to sing…" Henry said. It was fifteen minutes before the show was going to start and managed to sneak away from Regina long enough to talk to Emma. He too knew about the plan; he overheard Regina talking about it to Randal over the phone.

"Yeah," she replied, "but don't worry; I made Randal promise that nothing was going to happen to Erik or Christine. And if he knows what's good for him, he'll make good of that promise. Now let me fix your bowtie here." Emma knelt down and adjusted his crooked black bowtie. Suddenly, a realization came to her. "Should you even be watching a show like this?"

"I don't know really, but my Mom doesn't want me to ever leave her side now, and since she has to come I have to be here. When I asked her what this was about exactly, she said I'd understand when I'm older… whatever that means."

Meanwhile, across the theatre Regina stopped Randal to get his attention.

"Here," she said handing him something. Randal looked down and saw a silver dagger. The design looked very old, but it was still gleaming all the same. "Just in case you run into trouble."

"I promised Sheriff Swan that no one would be hurt," he replied.

"Yes, I know, but just in case you find yourself in a sticky situation. After all, you can't be too careful."

"Well, thank you," he said placing it inside his jacket.

A few minutes later, the lights went out and the curtains rose.

_Here the sire may serve the dam,_

_Here the master takes his meat!_

_Here the sacrificial lamb_

_Utters one despairing bleat._

_Poor young maiden!_

_For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets_

_You will have to pay the bill-_

_Tangled in the winding sheets!_

_Serve the meal and serve the maid!_

_Serve the master so that when tables,_

_Plans, and maids are laid,_

_Don Juan triumphs once again!_

Then Peter entered the stage, exactly as planned, with another actor as Passarino.

_Here's my hat, my cloak, and sword._

_Conquest is assured,_

If I do not forget myself and laugh…

With that, Petered entered the curtained alcove set on stage. But right as he was about to put on the black cloak, the floor suddenly disappeared under him. He landed with a thud, but not so loud as anyone in the audience could hear him. A moment later, Erik jumped from above and gathered the cloak.

"Sorry, Peter," he hissed, "but you aren't part of my plan."

_No thoughts within her head,_

_But thoughts of joy…_

_No dreams within her heart,_

_But dreams of love!_

Christine gracefully walked on stage wearing an elaborate pink dress that reached just below her knees. She sat down and examined an apple placed on one of the tables.

"Master?" Passarino whispered.

_Passarino… go away,_

_For the trap is set and waits for its prey…_

Erik emerged from the alcove, covered in the black cloak being sure not to reveal his face. This was it. This was the Point of No Return.

_You have come here_

_In pursuit of your deepest urge,_

_In pursuit of that wish,_

_Which till now has been silent…_

_Silent…_

_I have brought you,_

_That our passions may fuse and merge,_

_In your mind you've already succumbed to me,_

_Dropped all defenses,_

_Completely succumbed to me,_

_Now you are here with me:_

_No second thoughts,_

_You've decided…_

_Decided…_

"You know," Emma whispered, "I'm not too sure if it's still Peter under there."

"Don't worry," Randal said, "all is going to plan."

_You have brought me_

_To that moment where words run dry,_

_To that moment where speech disappears into silence…_

_Silence…_

_I have come here,_

_Hardly knowing the reason why,_

_In my mind I've already imagined our bodies intertwining,_

_Defenseless and silent_

_And now I am here with you:_

_No second thoughts,_

_I've decided…_

_Decided…_

_Past the point of no return,_

_The final threshold._

_The bridge is crossed now stand and watch it burn,_

_We've passed the point of no return._

It was now when Christine finally suspected something and removed the hood. It was Erik, but his face wasn't covered with a veil; it was instead a white mask that covered his deformity. He stood frozen for a moment, not knowing what to say, but finally found the words.

_Say you'll share with me one love,_

_One lifetime…_

_Lead me, save me from my solitude…_

He slipped a gold ring from his own finger and slid it onto Christine's, who did not know what else to do. Run? Scream? No, none of that. It killed her to break a promise, especially to him, but it had to be done.

"I'm sorry, Erik," she said silently, "but I need to see you for who you truly are, and so does everyone else."

_Say you want me with you here beside you…_

_Anywhere you go let me go too…_

_Christine, That's all I ask of-_

With one swift movement, she tore off his mask, also taking off his wig in the process. Everyone in the audience screamed in horror; it was indeed a horrible sight. A large part of his skull tissue was missing, leaving a large indented scar on his head, as well as his entire eyebrow and the bottom eyelid was stretched down. His right nostril was almost completely missing, leaving a hole where it should be. His face looked as though it was crudely twisted and left looking as though it was a bloody mess. This was certainly not the bad sunburn Emma had once joked about.

"No!" he cried. But it was too late now. With a twirl of his cloak, he and Christine disappeared.

"Someone help Peter!" Charlotte screamed looking down the trap door.

"Come on!" Christine said to Randal as they made their way to the stage.

"You two," Mrs. Gearing said to Emma and Randal. "Take that path down that trap door and it will lead you to him!"

"How can we trust you?" Emma asked.

"You must! But remember: keep your hand to the level of your eyes!"

"But why?" Randal asked.

"Why? The Punjab lasso! He is not afraid to strangle you now!"

"Like this," Mel said demonstrating, "I'll go with you!"

"No, Mel, stay here! Hurry, or you shall be too late!" Together, Emma and Randal jumped into the trap door, their hands at their eyes. When they entered what appeared to be a long, dark tunnel, there were quite a few paths waiting for them.

"Let's split up," Randal said.

"Right," Agreed Emma. Randal took a path to the right. Right when Emma was about to head left, a voice stopped her.

"Emma, wait!" Henry said.

"Henry! Go back! This is way too dangerous!"

"I have to make sure they don't hurt Erik! I know what he did was wrong, but if they find him, something really bad could happen to him!"

"Henry-"

"I'm going too," another voice said. Behind Henry was Ruby, who had escaped the crowds. "I'm not letting them get there before we do."

"But-" Emma protested.

"That's my final say."

"…Fine. But stay close to me, both of you. And keep your hand to the level of your eyes."

_Track down this murderer,_

_He must be found!_

_Hunt out this animal,_

_Who runs to ground!_

_Too long he's preyed on us,_

_But now we know:_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there,_

_Deep down below…_

_Here's here: the Phantom of the Opera…_

Erik could hear their chanting above ground. But they would have a much longer way to go if they wanted to stop him.

_Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair!_

_Down we plunge to the prison of my mind!_

_Down that path into darkness deep as hell!_

_Why, you ask, was I bound and chained to this cold and dismal place?_

_Not for any mortal sin,_

_But the wickedness of my abhorrent face!_

_Track down this murderer,_

_He must be found!_

_Hounded out by everyone!_

_Met with hatred everywhere!_

_No kind word from anyone!_

_No compassion anywhere!_

_Christine, Christine,_

_Why… why…?_

Later Christine was forced to wear the wedding gown the dummy of her was wearing. Her eyes were filled with fury.

_Have you gorged yourself, at last,_

_For your lust for blood?_

_Am I now to be prey _

_To your lust for flesh?_

Erik couldn't believe what he was hearing from her. How could she think that he would ever use her in such a crude way?

_That fate which condemns me,_

_To wallow in blood,_

_Has also denied me_

_The joys of the flesh…_

_This face, the infection,_

_Which poisons our love…_

He picked up a delicate white veil that rested on a dark throne and carefully placed it in her hair. Then he took a bouquet of flowers and placed them in her little hands. It made her look as though she was the height of purity and beauty. And such a contrast to his appearance…

_This face, which earned,_

_A mother's fear and loathing…_

_A mask,_

_My first_

_Unfeeling scrap of clothing._

_Pity comes too late!_

_Turn around and face your fate!_

_An eternity of this before your eyes!_

"You don't understand… how can you? You have always been so beautiful; no one would want to shun you from this wretched world. And I'm sure as hell that you didn't expect something like this to give their heart to you, let alone have you shatter it twice…"

_This haunted face holds no horror for me now,_

_It's in your soul that the true distortion lies…_

"I tried, Christine, I truly tried to be what you wanted, but I'm afraid that I have failed you." Suddenly he turned around and saw Randal at the gate.

_Wait!_

_I think, my dear, we have a guest!_

_Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight!_

_I had rather hoped that you would come!_

_And now my wish comes true,_

_You have truly made my night!_

He mockingly gave a bow to Randal.

_Christine… Christine…_

_Let me see her!_

_Be my guest, sir…_

With a wave of Erik's arm, the gate rose and fell. Randal quickly held Christine in his arms.

_Monsieur, I bid you welcome!_

_Did you think that I would harm her?_

_Why should I make her pay_

_For the sins which are yours?_

Out of nowhere, Erik conjured up a noose and threw it around Randal neck. Without even thinking, Randal pulled out the dagger Regina gave him, forgetting the promise he made to Emma, and aimed for Erik's chest, but failed and instead deeply scratched his hand. Erik barely made a sound, in fact, perhaps even laughed maliciously, as he pulled out the dagger and threw it to the ground and set the noose so that the end of the rope was suspended in the air. Christine screamed as the blood-covered dagger landed at her feet.

_Order your fine horses now!_

_Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes!_

_Nothing can save you now,_

_Except perhaps Christine…_

_Start a new life with me,_

_Buy his freedom with your love!_

_Refuse me and you send your lover to his death!_

_This is the choice!_

_This is the point of no return!_

_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate…_

_Grow cold and turn to tears of hate!_

"Why, angel?" she cried, "Why?"

"I'm sorry, Christine," Erik said, "but you've left me no choice!"

_Angel of Music, you deceived me,_

_I gave my mind blindly!_

Erik approached her so that their faces were almost touching.

"You've tried my patience… make your choice!" Uttering those last few words, Christine could see tears forming in his eyes. Then she was beginning to realize something; was so really any better than the people who shunned him? Those people are what led his descent into madness, his sadness, his fury. Perhaps she was his light to see the truth.

_Pitiful creature of darkness,_

_What kind of life have you known?_

_God give me courage to show you_

_You are not alone!_

And then she kissed him. Erik didn't know what to do, so he just stood there. Then she kissed him again and he wanted desperately to embrace her, but his hands wouldn't wrap themselves around her.

Suddenly, all the memories of everything Christine knew came flooding back to her. It was all so quick, yet it was all there, just as she remembered it. Erik could see it in her eyes, but it was too late now. He took a candle and held it up to the suspended rope, which freed him.

"Take her," he said, "forget me… forget all of this! Leave me alone… forget all you've seen. Go now, don't let them find you! Take the boat… leave me here… go now, don't wait! Just take her and go before it's too late… Don't tell them what you know of the angel in hell! Go! Go now! Go now and leave me!" As Christine and Randal left, Erik collapsed into a heap, cradling the white veil that fell from Christine's hair. Then, a silent little tune began to play from the monkey music box.

_Masquerade,_

_Paper faces on parade._

_Masquerade,_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you…_

"Erik," Christine said. Erik turned around and saw Christine standing there, her eyes watery and the gold ring he gave her in her hand.

"Christine, I love you…" he said. Christine opened his undamaged hand and placed the little ring in it. Then she began to sob into his shoulder.

"Oh, Erik. If only I knew how much torture I've given you… How I wish I could remember, if only I could have prevented all this from happening to you…"

"There now," he said softly, "this is the way it has always meant to be all along. Go be happy with the boy you love. It's best this way…" Christine looked back at him before she left and he gave a tearful nod. As she joined Raoul they began to sing again.

_Say you'll share with me one love,_

_One lifetime…_

_Say the word and I will follow you…_

_Share each day with me,_

_Each night,_

_Each morning…_

_You alone and make me song take flight…_

_It's over now,_

_The music of the night!_

In rage and sorrow, Erik walked over to the solitary mirror and smashed it with his hand, sending glass shards flying everywhere. It also happened to be the hand that had just begun to stop bleeding, but had unwilling used it to smash the mirror, and it was now pouring red blood again.

Now he wanted to disappear forever, where no one has ever heard of him. But what was the point now? There was no hope from him, no escape from this path to madness. He slumped down and waited for them to come, wait for them to arrest him or kill him. Maybe he would just bleed to death right here. It didn't matter. In fact, he could hear someone's footsteps right now coming for him. No, they were three people's footsteps. Now he could hear one of their voices.

"Erik?" Emma asked, "Erik, is that you? Are you okay?"

**Read and review please.**


	8. Friendship and Vengeance

Well, here's the conclusion to my fanfiction, which is actually quite short. I know back in the first chapter I was saying something about a sequel and I'm pretty sure that's what I'll work on. I don't know exactly what it's going to be about though, other than it's probably going to be post-Curse. Also, I'll be working on other works as well. What are they exactly? Um, they're sort of up in the air right now, but they're spread across several fandoms (I like to keep an open mind) and now that it's summer I have plenty of time to work on them, so keep your eyes open. Oh, and this is also the first multi-chapter fanfiction I've completed so that's something good, right? Anyway, I don't own anything, but enjoy it all the same.

"Erik?" Emma asked, "Erik, is that you? Are you okay?" Her flashlight caught him in the darkness, slumped hopelessly on the ground. The mob seemed to have taken a few wrong turns and their voices died away, leaving water drops against the lake the only sound.

"No!" he said covering his face with his blood-dripping hand, "Don't look at me! Not like this!" Ruby slowly removed his shaking hand and revealed Erik's face, disfigured and fearful.

"You know," she said nonchalantly as she removed the silky red scarf from her head and wrapped it around his hand, "it must be pretty lonely down here, living in the dark." Meanwhile, Emma found the bloody dagger and examined the design, as did Henry.

"That's definitely my mom's," he said, "but she didn't come down here…"

"She might have given it to Randal then," Emma said, "and he'd better be glad we split up or I would've killed him for breaking that promise."

"Henry," Erik said, "you look so calm staring at me. I thought a little boy like you would run screaming from me. Why are you still here? Why are any of you here?"

"Because we've seen past all this," Emma said, "I can't imagine what you might have been through before all this, but you can know now that we're not like those people. We can help, Erik." By now Ruby had finished wrapping his hand. He looked at the scarf; it had already stopped the bleeding. Then he looked away from them.

"No," he said, "there's no use now. It's too late for any hope for me. The best thing for everyone is to just leave me here and let me die in peace." Ruby put her hand on his wrapped one.

"We aren't going to let that happen," she said, "Not while we're around; we're you're friends, right?"

"Yep," Henry said with a nod of his head.

"Not even the mayor can stop us," Emma added. Erik looked up at them with his gleaming yellow eyes. Never had he had anyone care about him like this, let alone calling him a friend out loud. They didn't even shudder at the sight of his face. Then he smiled. It was very small, yes, but visible all the same.

"Sheriff Swan?" Regina's voice called, "Sheriff Swan, are you down here?"

"You shouldn't be down here, you two," Emma said.

"But where can we go?" Ruby asked.

"Over here," Erik said. He got up and led them inside the broken mirror. It was just large enough to fit the three of them. He whispered something in Emma's ear before draping a long, black cloak over the mirror.

"There you are," Regina said as she entered the lair with a flashlight in hand. By her side was Mel, who had led her here. "I don't suppose you've seen him, have you?"

"No," Emma lied, "he must have got away before I could find him." Still, Regina was not convinced. She peered around several corners, but still there was no sign of the phantom.

"Madame Mayor, look," Mel said. She pointed to a black cloth that was draped over something. With a quick tug it fell to the ground. But nothing was there, except a half of a white mask. She held it up to her flashlight to examine it before Regina took a look at it herself.

"Perhaps we can use this to find him," she said, "as for you, Sheriff Swan, you better not be lying to me; I can do far worse than I already have." Mel slowly led the way back for the mayor, the lights disappearing in the darkness. After she was certain they were gone, she replaced the cloth in its pervious position.

"You can come out now," she said. A second later the cloth fell off again and there stood Erik, Ruby, and Henry, looking as though they had never left, except that Erik had gone back to wearing the veiled hat.

"We'd better head back now," Ruby said, "what are you going to do now, Erik?"

"I'll probably just stay here as I always did," he said, "it's the only thing that's left…" _But once the Curse is broken _he thought _I'll deal with the queen once and for all. I'm sorry that the book was only telling half the truth to you, Henry, but your mother will certainly have hell to pay for what she has done to me, so much more than you would ever know. And all of this will be thanks to you, Emma Swan._

Thanks for reading.


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